DYL5 AND- 
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BY 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



IDYLS AND PASTORALS 



CELIA THAXTER 



A HOME GALLERY OF POETRY AND ART 



3^ 



ERRATA. 

For twenty-four photograviLVcs i"eacl twelve 
engravings. 




BOSTON 
D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY 

FRANKLIN AND HAWLEY STREETS 



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Copyright, iSS6, 

by 

D. LoTHROP & Company. 




CONTENTS. 



The Favorite Flower , 

Comrades 

On the Beach 

The Training of a Prince 

Lost .... 

The Minute Men . 

Wild Ducks . 

A Sunny Nook 

On Quiet Waters . 

Feeding the Doves 

The Dream Pedler 

UuDER THE Electric Light 



Page. 
13 
17 
21 

25 
29 

33 
37 
41 
45 
49 
53 
57 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Frontispiece 

Vignette 

The Favorite Flower 

Comrades 

On the Beach 

The Training of a Prince 

Lost 

The Minute Man 

Wild Ducks . 

A Sunny Nook 

On Quiet Waters 

Feeding the Doves 

The Dream Pedler 

Under The Electric Lighi 

Vignette 





F. //. LiDii^ren. 


2 




Miss L. B. Hii7nplirey 


9 




IVilliain T. Svudhy 


15 




Ediniiiid H. Garrett 


19 




F. Childe Hassam 


23 


MCE 


George Foster Barnes 


27 




JV. L. Taylor . 


31 




Ily. Sandham . 


35 




Charles Volkiiiar 


39 




Walter Shirlaiv 


43 




E. Parker I/aydeii . 


47 




Henry Bacon . 


51 




Edmund H. Garrett 


55 


IGHl 


F. H. Lnngren 


59 




Miss. L. B. Humphrey . 


61 



IDYLS AND PASTORALS 



THE FAVORITE FLOWER. 

O THE warm, sweet, mellow summer noon. 
The golden calm and the perfumed air, 
The chirp of birds and the locust's croon, 

The rich flowers blossoming still and fair. 
The old house lies 'mid the swarming leaves 
Steeped in sunshine from porch to eaves. 
With doors and windows thrown open wide 
To welcome the beauty and bloom outside. 

Through the gateway and down the walk, 
Madge and grandmother, hand in hand 

Come with laughter and happy talk. 

And here by the marigolds stop and stand. 



14 THE FAVORITE FLOWER. 

" What a dear old pleasant place it is ! " 
Cries the little maid in a trance of bliss, 
" Never anywhere could be found 



So sweet a garden the whole world round 



" Tell me, grandmother, which do you think, 

Is the dearest flower for you that grows ! 

The phlox, or the marigold stars that wink. 

Or the larkspur quaint, or the red, red rose ? 
Which do you love best, grandmother dear?" 
And the old dame smiles in the blue eyes clear 
" Of all the flowers I ever possessed, 
I think, my precious, I love you best!" 



COMRADES. 

Who that is merciful and wise 

Knows not how dumb companions fond 
Look up to man with loving eyes, 

Safe held in friendship's sacred bond ! 
The hound salutes the kindly hand 

That has tauoht him to love and not to fear 
The falcon still on his perch will stand 

Listening for voices he loves to hear, 
And the spaniels watch the lovely boy 
Half pleased, half scared at the curious toy; 
Mute friends ! They are grateful if they may share 
In human comfort or human care. 



8 COMRADES. 

You have had many a beautiful hour, 

O comrades faithful and tried and true ! 
O fair child, ripening to youth's rich flower, 

What pleasant fortune has fallen to you ! 
And grandfather, holding your treasure fast. 

More blessed are you than all the rest. 
For he brings you afresh the joys of the past, 

As the after glow kindles the fading west. 
The happy circle gathers close 
In an atmosphere of sweet repose, 
Un vexed by word or look austere, 
For love is the only ruler here. 



ON THE BEACH. 

The slow, cool, emerald breaker curving clear 

Along the sparkling edge of level sand, 
Shatters its crystal arch, and far and near 

In broken splendor spills upon the land. 
With rush and whisper siren-sweet and soft 

Gently salutes the children of the earth, 
And catching every sunbeam from aloft 

Flashes it back in summer mood of mirth ; 
And with a flood of strong refreshment pours 
Health and delight along the sounding shores. 

Amid its frolic foam and scattered spray 

Tossed lightly, like some dreaming lion's mane, 



ON THE BEACH. 

The tired dwellers of the city play, 
Forgetful for awhile of care and pain, 

While peace broods over all, nor does it seem 
As if the sleeping lion could awake ; 

And yet, when passed is this sweet summer dream, 
What roar of thunder on the coast will break 

When winter's tempests rage in sullen wrath — 

Death and disaster in their cruel path — 

And hurl against the sandy margin gray 

Devouring fury, tumult and dismay ! 



THE TRAINING OF A PRINCE. 

O STRONG young son of a king ! 

What is it thou shalt not know? 
Not only to draw the twanging string 

From the perfect curve of the bow, 
And straight thine arrow send 

To the distant target's heart, 
But all good gifts their power would lend. 

Here, the musician's art. 
There, hound and horn and hunter bold 

The joys of the chase would teach ; 
The courtier's graces manifold, — 

The poet's golden speech, — 



26 THE TRAINING OF A PRINCE. 

All wisdom and knowledge and beauty wait 
To make thee noble and crown thy state. 

Wilt thou be first in the fight 

Among the warriors great ? 
And will thy hand in the lute delight 

Wooing a lovely mate ? 
Wilt thou rule wisely many a year 

With a firm grasp on the helm, 
And the ship of the nation safely steer 

Thouorh storms would overwhelm ? 
Be thou thy people's pride and joy, 

Wide may thy praises ring, 
And growing from the princely boy 

To the stature of a king, 
Thine arrows of lofty purpose send 
Ever straight to the mark, for foe or friend ! 



LOST. 

Low burns the sunset and the dark is near: 

O where is home! O where my mother's face! 
The long night is before me, full of fear; 

Of the familiar path there is no trace. 
The evening wind blows damp upon my cheek, 

The stars begin to twinkle high and clear, 
In vain for sign of hope or help I seek, 

For all is strange and lone and sad and drear. 

No human sound comes to my anxious ear, 
No cattle low, no dog barks far away, 

Only the ripple of the frogs I hear, 

And the thrush singing to the dying day. 



3° 



LOST. 



Under my feet the sweet fern sprays I crush 
With tangled vines and dead leaves brown and sere, 

Faint spicy odors rise — a dewy hush 

Steals o'er the dusky landscape far and near. 

Will never more the lights of home appear ? 

The blessed lights of home! Wliere shall I turn, 
East, west, north, south, to find a ray of cheer? 

Where, in the darkness, do those tapers burn ? 
Weary, despairing, sorrowful I stray. 

How must your heart be aching, mother dear ! 
O friends who surely seek me, come this way ! 

O that my cry might reach you ! I am here ! 







i ■ 



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THE MINUTE MEN. 

Heroes on History's height! 

Who leaped at the first alarm, 
To meet their death or to win the fight, 

From forge and workshop and farm , 
Seizing the ready gun. 

With hearts on fire, to stand 
For wife and child against the foe, 

For home and their own dear land. 
Resolute, every one, 

To strike the mighty blow ! 

Firm as the solid rock 



On Concord's soft green sward 



34 THE MINUTE MEN. 

Their feet are planted to meet the shock, 

Love, honor and peace to guard, 
To strike for Liberty ! 

For the signal shot they wait, 
Dauntless and stern and still, 

To wrench from the hand of fate 
With the strength of an iron will, 

Freedom and Victory ! 



WILD DUCKS. 

I LIFT my voice to the breeze, 
A harsh and broken call, 

To mix with the roar of the seas 
And the rush of the waterfall; 

With noises stormy and rude 
I love to mingle my cry, 

In the heart of the solitude 



Where nothing^ human is nio-h. 



When the tempest lashes the wood, 
And over the marshland sings, 

Then gathers my callow brood 

'Neath my mate's protecting wino-s' 



38 WILD BLOCKS. 

But I, from the edge of the crag, 
Launch out on the sweeping gale, 

With pinions that never flag, 

And a courage that does not quail 

I ride on the heaving brine 

That breaks into seething foam, 
For the earth and the air are mine, 

And the water my buoyant home. 
A joyful life I lead, 

And I envy no one's lot, 
But for one boon I plead — 

O mortal, molest me not ! 



A SUNNY NOOK. 

'Mid bayberry, fern, sweet brier, 

With many a nodding weed. 
And the golden-rod's plume of fire, 

I have made a nest indeed ! 
Against the earth's warm breast, 

All fragrant with yielding moss 
And spicy twigs, I rest, 

While the leaves in the light airs toss, 
And I feel a part of the good, glad earth 
In her summer mood of joy and mirth. 

O who would covet a throne 

When a nook could be found like this 



42. A SUNNY NOOK. 

Any peasant might call his own, 
With its boon of innocent bliss ? 

With the bird and the bee to share 
Such largess of sunshine sweet, 

Afar from the loud world's care, 
And its turmoil of hurrying feet ! 

I envy no king in the world, not I, 

As here on the earth's warm breast I lie 



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ON QUIET WATERS. 

O LIGHTLY moored the lilies lie, 
And look up to the golden sky. 
Softly they breathe into the air 
Their holy fragrance everywhere : 
Delicate, dewy-fresh and sweet, 
It steals our charmed sense to greet. 
In each pure chalice, dazzling white, 
Sits throned a spirit of delight 
Our grateful souls with joy to fill, 
A pleasure sacred, deep and still, 
O lightly moored the lilies lie 
Afloat beneath the glowing sky ! 



46 ON QUIET WATERS. 

From shadow cool to sunshine clear 
Safe past the changing shores we steer, 
And watch the swallow dip his wing, 
And hear the hidden thrushes sing 
Each to his mate within the wood, 
Safe in their happy solitude. 
O perfect morn ! O peaceful time ! 
O life that blossoms at its prime ! 
We dream in Eden, thou and I, 
Afloat beneath the golden sky. 



FEEDING THE DOVES. 

Coo, coo, my pretty doves, fly lightly here ! 

See, snowy rice and golden grain I spill ! 
Come wheeling through the wide air far and near, 

Come from the gray old tower and take your fill. 
Swell your soft breasts and curve each graceful neck 

With rainbow^s spanned, and ruffle all your plumes 
So dainty fine and clean, without a speck, 

Lustrous as changing silk from Lyons looms. 
Suzette is calling, — there is naught to fear! 

Coo, coo, my pretty doves, fly lightly here ! 

Sure as the constant morning comes Suzette 

To bring you food, you know she will not fail, — 



5° FEEDING THE DOVES. 

Crossing the tender grass all dewy-wet : 

Her welcome voice you hear, and down you sail, 

Her pets, her pleasures, planting rosy feet 
Upon the green and gazing brilliant-eyed, 

Askance up to her face with crooning sweet, 
Lifting your shining heads in love and pride 

For all obey her well-known summons dear, 

" Coo, coo, my pretty doves, fly lightly here! " 



THE DREAM PEDLER. 

Lo, I come from dreamland dim, 
Down the drowsy air I swim, 
Ringing soft a pleasant tune. 
Through the sharp horns of the moon ; 
All that fancy fine can paint 
Of fair or sweet or wild or quaint, 
Through your brain Til set adrift. 
When my slender wand I lift. 

Hark, what fairy breezes blow ! 
Tinkles ice and flutters snow, 
Mingled with the summer dreams 
Of lilies white on placid streams ; 



54 THE DREAM PEDLER. 

You shall woo a mermaid fair, 
You shall fright the imp of care, 
'Twixt a dove's wings you shall ride, 
Down a cloud-bank you shall slide ! 

You shall fill a wind-rocked nest, 
In a witch's palace rest, 
You shall gather flowers afield, 
You shall wear a turtle's shield, 
By a butterfly be snared, 
By a tiny kobold scared ; 
You shall soar in a balloon, 
You shall dance in magic shoon ; 

Which w^ill suit you ? Pause and choose 
Ere my visions I unloose. 



UNDER THE ELECTRIC LIGHT 

How cold and still ! The keen, clear air 

Sparkles with snow-dust crystalline ; 
To right, to left, and everywhere 

The great lamps of the city shine. 
Against the distant darkness dense 

The huge electric torches blaze, 
Colorless suns of light intense 

That send on every side their rays ; 
White, blinding orbs that dazzling flare 



O'er the cold snow with colder glare. 



In years gone by, when lightning flashed 

Piercing the sky with zigzag fire, 
And at its heels the thunder crashed 



Pealino; throucrh heaven, an awful choir, 



58 UNDER THE ELECTRIC LIGHT. 

Men little thought this mighty king 
Anions the elements could be 

Their friend ! Nay, a more humble thing, 
Their slave, to serve them faithfully, 

Fetch news and carry, go and come. 

And meekly light their children home! 

I wonder, in this latter time, 

If any ponder on the man 
Whose mind, persistent and sublime, 

So far before his century ran. 
His genius high the sages mocked, 

They jeered at him who calmly cast 
His pearls before them and unlocked 

The treasures of a knowledge vast. 
But still he scaled heaven's dizzy height, 
To brins: us the electric light ! 



